Chapter Eight
January 6th, 11:38 PM
As Erin hung up, Jeremy opened the back door of his car. He threw his cigarette on the ground, put it out with his foot, and smiled at Erin.
"You get in touch with her?"
Erin nodded. "Yes."
"And she'll be at the park at midnight?"
Erin nodded again.
Jeremy pumped his fist. "Yes," he cried. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" He clambered onto the seat and over Erin's body, still bound tightly around the wrists and ankles, and pulled the phone from Erin's fingers. He looked at the device and looked at Erin with glee.
"So this now has her number on it, then?"
Erin gulped. Shit. She hadn't thought about that.
Jeremy laughed. "Not that it'll matter in twenty minutes. I'm going to beat the Blue Lynx and finally, finally unmask her. And that will be that."
He pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket. "Okay. Time for the gag again."
Erin struggled as Jeremy tied the cloth around her mouth. She wanted to seem scared still, and desperate, even though her plan was going exactly the way she wanted. She had gotten Jeremy to free her from her captor's house, and made him believe he was going to get to fight the Blue Lynx. She'd been allowed to contact "Blue Lynx," and had let Margot know where "she" was going to be at midnight. She had even been able to peek out from the blanket Jeremy had placed over her body to see where she had been held. She'd recognized the house, too: it was a broken-down old thing not far away from Hillbilly Manor, where Erin and Margot had had a particularly memorable encounter some months ago. Just how many run-down properties had Hammerson refurbished for his operation?
"I'm going to put the blanket back on, too," Jeremy said. "Sorry."
"Mmph," Erin mumbled.
Jeremy spread the quilt over Erin's mostly-naked body, patting it down on her legs and arms, making sure she couldn't be seen through the window, and then slammed the back door. He hopped in the front and started the ignition.
Seconds later, Erin was rolling along with the momentum of the vehicle, her thoughts racing. Would Margot be able to beat Jeremy? He hadn't seemed like much of a threat. But now Erin recalled how easily he had lifted Erin out of that chair; how he had carried her out of the house and into his car while barely breaking a sweat. Had be gotten stronger since college? Maybe so. But Margot had gotten tougher, too. And she had the arsenal of the Blue Lynx on her side, as well. Erin was confident that Margot would be able to figure something out.
"I could help her, too," Erin thought, "If I could just get these damn ropes off." She had been working at the knots since the blanket first draped over her. Jeremy's bonds were not as tough as the ninja's or the old woman's, and Erin felt like she had stretched them a considerable amount in the past half hour or so. Still, the ties held, and the pain, fatigue, and emotional exhaustion that had grown within Erin since she had been chloroformed in her apartment-- how many days ago was that, now?-- made any kind of exertion a challenge.
"Come on, Erin," she thought, twisting and tugging and turning on the backseat. "Come on."
Suddenly, the car turned off. Erin froze. She heard the front door open and shut, and shortly after, heard Jeremy's voice rising in the cold night air.
"Where are you, Blue Lynx? Where are you?"
Erin shimmied her body and nodded her head, wrestling with the quilt, and eventually found a way to poke her chin over its edge. She scooted her butt back toward the car door and climbed into a sitting position. From here, she could see out the back window.
They were in the park, and it was dark. A single light in the parking lot illuminated just one other vehicle: Margot's car. The edges of light's yellow aura revealed tall trees, a small dirt path, and a few benches. Jeremy was walking down the path, his arms hanging loose by his sides. He almost seemed to be snapping his fingers. Then, she heard his voice.
"Hello there."
And Erin looked further up the path to see a girl in tight blue spandex, white boots and gloves, a blue mask, and a white belt. She was standing straight, confident, with her hands on her hips. She was the Blue Lynx, and yet, somehow, not the Blue Lynx. She was shorter. Maybe a touch wider. And her hair was glowing with a reddish tint in the parking lot light.
She was Margot.
On to Chapter Nine
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